In Front Of The Lake
by 07654
Summary: Francis and Mary's life by the lake.


Reuploading/edited after the first version went weird on my computer :)

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><p>It's November, and the two children sit under a tree in front of the lake. The girl picks up a fallen leaf and examines the fragile spine against the weak sunlight that battles its way through the branches. She doesn't notice the blonde boy gathering armfuls of them until they've been posolutely dumped straight over her head. The little girl shrieks in indignation and leaps from where she's sat, raking together a heap of wet leaves as she goes. It's nicer when they're together. Her dresses don't seem so painful and shoes not so pinching when her mind is set on how best to build a soft, cotton home out of bed linen, or creative new ways to upset their tutors. She hardly misses her mother when he's is there. She hardly thinks of Scotland. It's November, and the little queen is happy.<p>

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><p>She sits, exasperated, in a patch of daisies in front of the lake. She absent-mindedly picks at the flowers until she's decapitated a whole army. She doesn't want to be here. She doesn't want to be anywhere. Two days back from the convent and court has changed so dramatically, or perhaps just she has. Or Francis has. She thinks it's the latter. The expectation she had of returning to court, the expectation that Francis would greet her smiling and perhaps even embrace her on arrival. The expectation that he had been saving his heart for her, that they would find their friendship again and dance together and maybe even fall in love. How wrong she had been. She wills herself not to cry as she sits in the grass and pulls heads off of flowers.<p>

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><p>They lounge in the shade of a leafy tree in front of the lake. The golden spectrum of the leaves casting their minds back to moments long ago. He's kissing her like he's never kissed her before. He touches her like he's never touched her before. He drinks in her snow white skin and dark brown eyes and the way the yellow in her dress mirrors the paler leaves the lie next to her. They stay like this for a while, both elated and terrified, under the shade of a leafy tree in front of the lake.<p>

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><p>It's summer now and the couple sit on a heavy blanket in front of the lake. The day is warm and the breeze off the water only slight, the sun not yet reached its peak in the sky. Her hair is loose and falling in a cascades down her back. He lazes with his head nestled in her lap, nearly finding sleep despite the hour. A basket of food lies half eaten in the grass. She makes tiny braids in the front of his hair and they speak about everything under the sun. The water is still and beautiful and the flowers that bloom transform court miraculously into a floral haven. She is laughing. He is smiling. It's summer now and the day is warm.<p>

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><p>They're king and queen now but still find the time to come and sit together by the lake. Things are more strained, they laugh less than they used to. Her face has more thin lines from frowning and his hair is shorter and body fuller somewhat. His once lanky arms filled out with muscle and his skinny legs are not as awkward as they once were. They fight more and she cries more. He hurls more china vases at doors, more wine goblets at walls. But when they come here she can be a teenager again and he can touch her face like she's made of glass. They're king and queen now but she still thinks he's the most beautiful thing she's seen.<p>

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><p>She's 19 and she's 2 months pregnant and she lies with her eyes closed on a plush blanket in front of the lake. She's glowing, her milk bottle skin tinted golden from the setting sun and mouth set in a wide smile. She feels his hand settle on her flat stomach and rolls her eyes. She tells him she won't show for another few weeks but it doesn't stop him from moving his head from its resting place on her shoulder and down to her abdomen. Here he lays is ear against the thin bodice of her summer dress before kissing it three times and promising to love their child forever, second only to one. Laughter shakes through her body at his promise and the tickle of his breath. She pulls him away and almost meets his mouth with hers when a sharp pain rips through her lower stomach, forcing her face into an ugly contortion as her fingers clutch the frayed edges of the rug. She lets out a low moan and doesn't see his eyes light up in fear because hers are screwed so tightly shut. She's 19 and she's two months pregnant and her husband is lifting her in his arms and running back to the castle, leaving the blood stained blanket abandoned on the grass in front of the lake.<p>

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><p>A year on and they hardly come to their little spot in front of the lake. Her insides are still rotting with guilt from the baby she lost and she finds solace in no one. Her friends have married their respective suitors and moved away from court to start their own lives. She always knew they wouldn't be around forever. Being Queen is hard, harder then she was told. She can't confide in her husband because when he's not at meetings or events or dances or away fighting he complains of plaguing headaches that leave him drained and exhausted. They still love each other. They do. He still unbraids her hair at night and brushes out the knots of the day and she still lies awake on his side of the bed when he leaves to fulfil duty. They still love each other but its a year on and they hardly come to their little spot infront of the lake.<p>

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><p>It's January and she's sitting with her back pressed against a tree in front of the lake. The winter is bitter and the air cold, chapping her lips and turning her gaunt cheeks a pale pink. She can't feel her limbs, she hasn't been able to since he got sick. She shuts her eyes and lets the harsh wind drag tears down her face, dribbling past her jaw and down onto her exposed chest. Silence. She is alone. She cries in front of the lake.<p> 


End file.
